


Deserved

by semele



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 04:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6270001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semele/pseuds/semele
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few months after landing, it turns out Raven is pregnant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deserved

**Author's Note:**

> Baited by [this post](http://la-petite-fadette.tumblr.com/post/141164372339/ravenbells-la-petite-fadette), because I'm so easy it's actually laughable. While we're at it, the baby was named by la-petite-fadette.

This can’t be real. It just can’t be, no matter what Jackson is saying, no matter how sure he looks of this pesky little diagnosis of his. 

“Raven, just look at yourself. You’re starting to show. What more proof do you need, contractions?”

Well, he can go fuck himself, and Raven tells him that much before she storms out. Given how her knee brace tends to slow her down, it’s not the most satisfying storming ever, but she’ll take any little comfort she can get.

(Rosa would laugh, she would laugh so hard. What was that, pajarita? There were three of them, and you aren’t sure which one?)

***

She goes to Bellamy first, because it’s only fair. He was kind of first, after all. First one still alive.

Oh, what a load of crap. She goes to him because it’s easier; because he’s quieter and gentler, with something soft about his hands. She remembers his hands very well these days. 

“I’m pregnant,” she says right when he answers the door, and he’s so stunned he automatically lets her into his quarters, his eyes comically wide. _Yeah,_ she’s tempted to say as she steps in. _Same._

Then come the most awkward ten minutes of her life, Bellamy staring at her in silence as she explains in brief, clinical words, implant expired and I forgot, and it’s not like there is an ultrasound, so it could be his, or…

“But you came here,” he interrupts before she can mention other names. “So you think…”

What is she supposed to say to that? She could be four or five months, and her last period was on the Ark, not that it says anything, given how her life on the ground has been. Half the girls in camp haven’t had their periods since landing, and it’s not like she’s going to explain the fine details to Bellamy now.

“I’m not… It’s complicated.” Understatement.

He bites his lip as if embarrassed, which is the last thing Raven expected to see from him tonight, and when he looks up at her again, he’s obviously annoyed, enough to make her recoil a little.

“That was the actual worst thing I could’ve asked, wasn’t it? Let’s just… You’re gonna need a hand, aren’t you? I’m assuming you’re having it, since we’re having this conversation.”

Now it’s her turn to stare at him in shock, and she’s pretty sure he doesn’t like her reaction to his offer of help, for whatever reason, but he doesn’t say anything. Just waits for her to speak, and when she doesn’t, he steps in slowly, and puts his hand on her arm.

“Get some rest, Raven. There will be plenty of time to talk tomorrow.”

***

Except they kind of never do pick up the conversation, at least not the exact same one. It seems to Raven like it gets exchanged into a hundred smaller ones, _how do you feel_ and _do you have your firewood_ , with a side of _you’re exhausted, go the fuck to sleep_. As weeks go by, she grows slower, and larger, and scared, terrified of pain and of loneliness, and of a life depending on her the way hers once depended on someone else’s, because that went so well. How is she going to raise a child when she’s so banged up can barely walk?

(How is she going to raise a child when she’s so terrified she can barely think?)

In contrast, Bellamy is calm and steady in ways she can’t even understand, and it drives her up the wall whenever he speaks softly or extends his steady hands to support her as she walks. 

_You don’t even know if it’s yours,_ she wants to spit out at him. _Maybe it’s Wick’s? Did I ever tell you about how Wick and I…_

But she can never as much as finish the thought, and maybe that’s why she doesn’t say a word. At least until that one day when he comes over and finds her crying. 

It’s her back, or maybe her fear, hard to tell which is harder to admit by now, but either way, she doesn’t feel like being kind, or even particularly just. She just wants to scream, and he’s there to be screamed at, because when isn’t he there lately? It’s like he crawled into every tiny bit of her life.

“You don’t even know if it’s yours. Why don’t you ever ask me if it’s yours?”

He sighs and sits at the edge of her cot, careful not to touch her. He never touches her unless it’s strictly necessary, and she shouldn’t be paying attention to details like this, except she totally is.

“Well?” she taunts, desperate for a fight, but when he finally catches her gaze, he doesn’t look ready for a confrontation.

“I know it’s yours. Good enough. Oh, for fuck’s sake, scoot. You’re weighing your back down.”

And without a word of explanation, he takes off his jacket and rolls it tight, then slides it under Raven’s stomach to relieve the pressure before he lies down facing her, and pushes his knee between hers. She’s pretty immobilized like this, especially after he cradles her head against his chest, but she’s not about to complain. Not when something is suddenly taking so much pressure off her back and hips.

(Not when she’s finally being held.)

***

Giving birth is the scariest thing she’s ever done in her life, and then it only gets worse – first nights that morph into first words and first steps, Raven’s world shrinking into a tiny bundle of a person, then expanding rapidly with dangers. As soon as she can sit again, she’s back in her workshop, because that’s the only thing that can possibly keep her sane now. Bellamy finds long pieces of strong cloth, and uses them to strap the baby to his chest as he works on repairing clothes, and it works better or worse depending on the day; it’s not like either of them has any idea what they’re supposed to do. They make this up as they go.

Her daughter’s features are as mysterious to Raven as Bellamy’s are, and that’s the scariest thing of all – figuring out when she needs to sleep, and when she needs to eat, and when she just needs someone to chase away the nightmares. It’s hard to love people like this, people who stay quiet until they explode, feelings spilling out of their heads like pebbles. They have those weird ways of loving you as if you deserved it, or maybe as if you didn’t even need to deserve it. Raven doesn’t really trust this whole unconditional shit. In her experience, it always comes with a price.

It’s not like she doesn’t love them. It’s just hard, that’s all.

Sometimes they fall asleep together, Bellamy sprawled on his back, and Paloma still strapped securely to his torso, and as trusting as he’s exhausted. Whenever this happens, Raven can watch them greedily for hours; tiny fists clenching and unclenching against Bellamy’s skin, and his hand, comically large in comparison, resting comfortingly on Paloma’s back. They look at peace like this, calm and secure around each other, brave in this strange way of people who can be sure they are loved back.

Maybe one day Raven will join them.


End file.
